Abrianna
by Sheazy Daisy
Summary: There's a new halfblood and a new prophecy. Abrianna Anderson is an unusual demigod who possesses a power that even the Gods may fear. When she arrives at Camp Halfblood, Abrianna forms friendships with our favorite demigod gang and embarks on a journey to discover her part in the new prophecy. Set after the Titan War. This is my first fanfiction so please go easy on me! :D


First of all, I do not own Percy Jackson and the Olympians; all rights belong to Rick Riordan. Second of all: Hello… Umm… So, this is my first fanfiction on this website. Please go easy on me. I do a lot of writing, but most of it is all original (if you'd like to take a look, go to and search Sheazy Daisy. Anything that is by Sheazy Daisy is by me.) Here's my attempt at fanfiction. Yes, it's an OC, but Percy, Annabeth, Nico, Grover, Thalia, etc. do all appear. This takes place after the Last Olympian. It's like the summer after the war, except there's been no Roman/Greek switcheroo and Piper, Jason, Leo, Hazel, and Frank don't exist in this story. Well, here I go! :D

* * *

I sat at my desk holding a Spanish textbook, emblazoned along the front with "¡Exprésate!" It was rather ironic, considering exprésate means express yourself, and that was definitely _not_ what the teacher in the room, Mrs. Penn, was letting us do. I mean, it was the last freaking day of school. Final exams = over; school = an hour and fifteen minutes left. This was the last study hall of the year, with 15 minutes left in it, and she was making us sit around and do the worst possible thing ever: read. Then we had 30 minutes to get autographs for our yearbooks and return textbooks to our teachers, and then a 30 minute closing assembly led by the headmaster, Mr. Garrison.

My eyes skimmed the page, the letters floating around and doing backflips. My dyslexia was bad enough when reading English, but we were, of course, forced to learn a foreign language as well. There was another option, called English Lab, for people like me with… issues, but my father and step-mom wanted me to take another language. They had thought Latin might be cool, but I had been taking Spanish since 1st grade, so I went with that.

I tried to concentrate on the words bouncing off the page and circling mockingly around my head. "Yo es… estoy driumdone… no, durmi… durmiendo en mi acam… cama," I mumbled to myself. As I struggled through the next sentence, I felt my frustration building like water behind a dam. Finally, I put the book down on my desk, open to the same page, and stared at the ceiling.

"Abrianna…" The name, my full name, startled me. I hated that name. It was either Brianna or Bri, _not_ Abrianna.

"Yes?" I asked, looking into the cold and calculating green eyes of Mrs. Penn.

"What are you doing?"

"Staring at the ceiling, ma'am."

"And why would you be staring at the ceiling when you have a perfectly good textbook in front of you to read from?" At this point, everyone was staring at Mrs. Penn and me. I swallowed and searched Mrs. Penn's eyes for a way out. She smiled back at me, reminding me of the Cheshire cat. The class stared eagerly, as if Mrs. Penn and I were about to break out in a catfight.

"Because… because… um…" I didn't want to admit that my dyslexia was acting up, even though nearly everyone in the school knew I had dyslexia.

"If you don't want to read Spanish, how about this." Mrs. Penn plucked a book off of the shelf behind me and waved it in front of my nose.

Narrowing my eyes, I tried to make out the title. It looked like: "Teh Likerl Anelg".

"_The Killer Angels_," Mrs. Penn said, a small smirk on her face. "Have you ever read it?"

The answer was no, I hadn't ever read it. One time, in 7th grade History class, we had had to read it, and I had taken one look at the first paragraph and closed the book. There were way too many long words that would be murder on my dyslexia, so after class I had complained to the teacher and he had allowed me to read another, much easier book. "Yes," I lied, smiling at her. "We read it in 7th grade."

Mrs. Penn raised an eyebrow. "Oh? What's it about?"

I flashed her a glare. She was an evil, devilish teacher that always seemed to take delight in torturing and humiliating me in front of the whole class. But she wasn't going to win this time. It was the last day of school, and I was determined to have at least one victory to hold above her head. "It's about the Civil War, the Battle of Gettysburg to be exact." Though I hadn't read it, I had listened as my 7th grade history class had discussed it around me.

Mrs. Penn nodded. "Wasn't it a wonderful book? I, personally, have read it three times. Wouldn't you like to read it again?"

I ground my teeth, my eyes flickering to the clock behind her. 11:21. We still had 10 more minutes in this study hall. "Not particularly. It was a great book, lots of beautiful description and imagery, but I don't like reading books more than once. I mean, I already know how it's going to end, so what's the point?"

Mrs. Penn nodded again. "True. Then, how about _this_ lovely book?" She put _The Killer Angels_ back on the shelf and this time pulled out _To Kill a Mockingbird_. The only reason I knew what the title said was because I recognized the cover from the many times it had been seen around campus when my grade had been reading it. It was another book we had read in History and another one I had been excused from reading.

"_To Kill a Mockingbird_," I said ponderously, knowing that it would annoy her that I knew what it was. "I've read that one, too. It's very good."

"Isn't it now? Well, then I think you'll have no problem reading it again." She slammed the book down on my desk, giving me a murderous smile.

I smiled back. "Would you like to read the first few paragraphs aloud to us, Abrianna?" Mrs. Penn inquired.

"Sure," I said, slowly opening the book. My heart began to beat fast, though I didn't understand why. The kids knew I had dyslexia, so why was I always so nervous about reading things aloud and stumbling stupidly over them? _Because it's embarrassing_, hissed a voice inside me. _It wouldn't be so embarrassing if you didn't point it out_, I hissed back. "Um… When he was… nearly… uh, thiteren… I mean… thirteen, my otrhebr, um, bro… brother-"

"You can stop, Abrianna. That's quite enough." Mrs. Penn smiled devilishly at me. I could feel my face turning redder by the second.

Mrs. Penn turned away, her ugly black skirt swishing and her equally ugly heels clicking as she walked. I slumped down in my chair, trying to hide my face in the unfortunately small book as I felt eyes burn into me from all over the room.

* * *

"She did what?" my friend, Helen, cried angrily, her dark blue eyes flashing. "That nasty old…" Helen trailed off, struggling for the right word and unwilling to swear in school.

"Helen, calm down. I'm fine. Honestly, by this time I think I'm used to Mrs. Penn's tormenting." I opened my locker and grabbed my math and history textbooks, stacking them on top of my Spanish textbook so I could return them. Then, balancing the books carefully on one arm and using my stomach as a support, I snatched my yearbook and placed it on the top. My friend, Stacia, closed the locker for me and then turned to her own locker, adjacent to mine.

"Witch! Yeah, witch," Helen said, grinning at me and Stacia.

"Bri, you really should tell someone about Mrs. Penn. Tell your father, or even go to Mr. Garrison. She shouldn't be doing this to you. It's incredibly unfair, and besides, teachers are supposed to be supportive," Stacia, ever the rational one, said, grabbing her own textbooks and yearbook and closing her locker door.

"Whatever. You know my father will overreact and it'll feel like I'm tattle-taling if I tell Mr. Garrison." I began to walk towards my History and English classroom, Stacia and Helen trailing behind.

"I think that Stace, for once in her life, is right," Helen alleged.

"Thank you, you're ever so kind," Stacia purred, sarcasm tinting her voice.

"You're ever so welcome," Helen grinned, performing a slight bow which caused her to drop all of her books.

Stacia and I laughed, unable to cover our mouths and smother the sound. Blushing, a flustered Helen huffed, "Shut up!" and hastily picked up her textbooks. She stomped into the History classroom and placed her textbook on the pile sitting on the table underneath the SmartBoard. Stacia and I followed suit, still giggling.

We waved goodbye to Mr. Lewis, who in turn told us to: "Have a great summer, girls!" and continued to type at his computer.

"Back to what we were discussing before Helen's… mishap," Stacia sniggered.

"Shut up!" Helen cried again, nudging Stacia with her elbow.

I sighed and smiled at the ceiling. "Stacia, it doesn't really matter all that much, does it? I mean today's the last day of school, so I won't even see her until next year. And, even then, she doesn't teach any tenth grade classes, does she?"

"That's a valid point," Stacia agreed.

"Let's not worry about school anymore," I suggested. Helen nodded and Stacia grudgingly dropped the point.

"Autographs…" Helen mused. "Who do I want to sign my yearbook?" The three of us walked into the Spanish classroom, where Helen and I left our Spanish textbooks, and then the French classroom, where Stacia left her French textbook.

"Everyone!" Helen cried as we passed a bunch of tenth grade boys, who gave us odd looks.

Stacia and I laughed as Helen grinned over her shoulder at the boys. I was excited. Summer was finally here.

* * *

Yep, so that's the first chapter. Not really any action, but I kinda wanted to have a starting place that I could jump off of. Hopefully I'll have half of the next chapter be in the POV of someone from Camp Halfblood, though I'm not yet sure who… Anyways, to anyone who actually read this fanfic, thanks! :)


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